


A Silence So Loud...

by Geminia (Geminia905)



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-22
Updated: 2000-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geminia905/pseuds/Geminia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus is imprisoned on false allegations and Hercules must deal with the repercussions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Silence So Loud...

"Things for the most part form a single chain;  
for men say Athene used to champion their father,  
and now the citizens of that goddess have saved his children,  
and checked the insolence of him whose heart preferred violence to justice.  
God save me from such arrogance, such greed of soul!"

The bright, cheery voice sang the chorus much more cheerfully and up tempo than the author had ever intended . . . not to mention much more off tune.

"Iolaus!" The taller of the two men growled. He'd awoke that morning with a terrible headache and a very bad humor after a night out with his boisterous friend, resulting in a near brawl caused by the hunter's attentions to a married woman, and neither of the two were being helped by the loud singing. "I don't know how the Tartarus you remembered all that when only catching five minutes of that bard's story, but knock it off!"

"Aww, Herc! It sounded like a really interesting play. Wish I knew what it was about. I mean, these traveling bard shows are getting more and more inventive everyday. Now that we're done with this whole witch nonsense . . . I told you we wouldn't find any . . . we can take a break at the next village and catch a performance . . ."

"Iolaus! Would you please shut up?!" The demigod snapped, putting a hand to his temple. "Ever since we got up this morning you haven't shut up once. You're either babbling incessantly or trying to deafen me with your so called singing. I've heard enough out of you today to last me the rest of my life!"

The angry words were like a verbal slap to the blonde hunter. Iolaus had an inbred gift for gab. It was something as natural to him as breathing. His friend had been in a bad mood all morning, so he'd been trying to cheer him up, as he was usually able to accomplish with his lighthearted banter. His face fell and he continued on, silently, hoping his friend would get over this mood soon.

Hercules hadn't realized what he was saying until he saw the stricken look on his friend's face. He was immediately ashamed. Just because he was in a bad mood, didn't mean he had to take it out on Iolaus. He was just about to apologize, when there was a shout from behind them.

"You! Stop there!"

They both turned to see half a dozen men on horseback coming toward them. Each of them was well armed and as they came closer, they drew their swords. Their insignias identified them as law enforcement officials.

"What can we do for you?" Hercules asked the leader as he approached. He watched each of the men carefully, prepared to fight if it came to that.

"We are here for your friend, Hercules. The magistrate of Salemia has issued a warrant for his arrest."

"On what charges?" the demigod demanded.

"Witchcraft."

* * *

"This is absurd!" Hercules leaned on the magistrate's desk, looking the man in the eye. "Iolaus is no witch!"

Purtinas met the demigod's gaze unflinchingly.

"We have sworn testimonies from Britanus, his wife, and a dozen witnesses who say that your friend bewitched her in an attempt to seduce her."

"Oh, come on! Iolaus has never needed to resort to witchcraft to gain a woman's attentions. _She_ came on to _him_!"

"That isn't what these people say." He held up a handful of papers, waving them at the demigod. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Hercules began to object, but saw that it was not going to do any good. He turned and left the magistrate's office, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"What do you mean 'No visitors'?!" The Son of Zeus demanded, glaring at the guard before him.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir. Magistrate's orders. The prisoner is allowed no visitors before his trial." The guard wisely took a step backwards, putting some distance between himself and the enraged demigod.

"We'll see about that." Hercules declared, before turning and leaving.

He'd not been gone but a few moments before the magistrate arrived with two other men, each carrying a bag. The guard stood at attention as they went inside, but his eyes filled with sympathy for the unfortunate prisoner as he glanced at the familiar bags.

* * *

Hercules stormed back to Purtinas' office, only to find the magistrate out on 'official business'. Sighing resignedly, he headed back to the inn where he and Iolaus had stayed the night before. He steadfastly ignored the stares that accompanied his arrival.

"Ale," he said shortly, slumping in a seat by the bar.

The innkeeper brought over a tankard and looked at him sadly.

"Sorry to hear about your friend," he said sympathetically. "It's a real shame. He was such a nice lad, too."

"Thanks, but as soon as the trial starts I'm sure we'll prove him innocent and he'll be free."

"Trial?" The older man snorted, and motioned for Hercules to follow him to a section of the bar out of earshot from the other patrons. "Son, do you know what a witchcraft trial consists of around here?" When the demigod shook his head, he continued. "Well, if they don't manage to convince the accused witch to confess while they're waiting for the 'trial', they call together a small tribunal of local town officials and bring out the witnesses. The accused is given one last chance to confess. If they do, they're hanged. If they don't, they're found guilty and . . . well, let's just say that hanging is far more pleasant than what happens next. In any case, innocence never enters into it."

Hercules looked at the other man, horrified. How could this kind of thing still be happening? Greece had its problems, but he'd believed this kind of barbarity a thing of the past. There was no way he was going to allow his friend to become victim to such an unjust system.

'The trial is in four days. Corinth is two days travel from here. Two days there, two days back. That would be cutting it too close for comfort. What if they start the so-called trial early?'

"Listen, Friend. Is there anyone around here I could trust to get a message to Corinth? Quickly?"

The innkeeper smiled.

"My boy. He's the local messenger. He's gotten to Corinth within a day and a half before."

"Ok. Could you send him there with a message for me? I'm afraid if they know that I'm sending him, they'll try to stop him."

"Of course." The older man leaned over the bar and produced a small scroll. "You write your message, I'll go round 'im up."

Hercules quickly scrawled his note and when the innkeeper returned a few minutes later, it was ready. It was not long afterward that the man's teenage son was off to Corinth with the urgent message.

'Iphicles,

Iolaus' life is in danger. Trumped up witchcraft charges in Salemia. Local law corrupt. Come quickly to ensure fair trial.

Hercules.'

* * *

"The trial is not for three more days! Why can't I see my friend to offer him support?!" The demigod demanded, fighting hard to resist the urge to pull the door from the small prison and go to his friend, despite the guards' protestations.

"The magistrate has ordered that the prisoner is not allowed visitors in order to allow him time to reflect on his situation." The first guard informed him.

"'Reflect' or confess to something he's not guilty of?" Hercules growled.

The younger guard flinched visibly, but the first guard let it wash right over him, like water off a duck's back.

"His guilt or innocence is irrelevant." The fuming demigod made a move to argue, but the guard cut him off. "I suggest you go back to the inn. Conspiring with a witch can be just as bad for your health as being one."

Hercules started to take a step toward the man, enraged at the threat. He kept himself from knocking the man through the wall, by sheer force of will and the knowledge that he'd be no good to Iolaus locked in a jail cell.

"This isn't over," he warned the man as he turned and walked away.

* * *

The furious demigod stormed toward the magistrate's office. He wanted nothing more than to bust into that prison and take Iolaus out by force; but if he did that Iolaus would always wear the stigma of being not only an escaped prisoner, but also an accused witch.

His ingrained respect of law and order and the need to go 'by the book', was clashing with a part of him that was screaming that Iolaus' life was in danger and he should just take him and run.

If only he could know that his friend was ok. See his face, or just hear his voice . . . . He stopped dead in his tracks. Just yesterday he'd exploded at his friend for talking too much and now here he was a day later craving to hear that wonderful voice, that mischievous giggle. He'd never even gotten a chance to apologize.

'Well,' he thought as he approached Purtinas' office. 'That's the first thing I'm going to do when I see you, my friend. You can even sing me some more lines from that play if you want.' Despite his anger, he had to smile at that thought. 'Gods, will I regret that promise!'

He burst into the magistrate's office only to find it empty once more.

"Now, where are you off to?" he muttered, exasperated.

* * *

"C'mon, Boy. Make it easier on yourself. Confess!" Purtinas goaded the prisoner as Oyeris pulled the blonde's head back out of the water.

Iolaus sputtered and gulped in as much air as he could. It was the third time he'd been dunked and this time he'd feared they weren't going to let him up. His lungs burned from lack of oxygen, his back was on fire from the flogging he'd received that morning, and his arms were lashed tightly to a board secured over his shoulders, causing him pain with every movement. Still, he refused to give in to these sadistic bastards.

"G-go to Tartarus!" he gasped. "I won't confess to something I'm not guilty of!"

"Such a mouth," the magistrate clucked. "Gentlemen, I believe a cleansing is in order."

Oyeris drug the hunter back from the dunking barrel, securing him to a table, while Terminos went for a small pail, dipping a ladle in to scoop up some of the steaming contents. The hunter's horrified eyes followed the tall man as he made his way back.

"Lye for a liar," Oyeris hissed in the blonde's ear, before pinching his nose shut and forcing his jaw open as soon as he helplessly gasped for air.

The liquid fire silenced their prisoner's screams. They cut him loose and he lay, spluttering and clawing at his throat until the pain became too much and he passed out.

Purtinas opened the unconscious man's mouth and examined their handiwork.

"I believe you heated it a bit too long, Terminos. We may as well move up the trial, we won't be getting any confessions from the prisoner now . . . unless they're handwritten." He walked to the door. "Put him back in his cell." He called over his shoulder as he headed toward his office.

* * *

Hercules was just leaving the empty office when he heard a noise off to his right.

"Hercules!" The hushed voice called again. "Over here!"

The demigod made his way over to the dense patch of bushes at the side of the building. Hiding amongst them was the young guard from the jail.

"What do you want?" His patience had worn thin where the law in this town was concerned.

"It's about your friend . . . "

"Iolaus? What about him?!"

The guard, who Hercules now realized was barely more than a boy, looked around as though afraid the shadows would come to life and drag him away.

"I could get in big trouble for this . . . " He gave the demigod a nervous look. "You have to get your friend away from here. Now! They've been torturing him. Trying to make him confess." He saw the fury spreading across the demigod's face and took a step back.

"You know this? You've seen it?" The demigod was trying to control himself and the effort was obvious to the young man.

"No, I haven't _seen_ it, but from what they've been saying . . . Something's happened. I don't know what, but they've moved the hearing up to tomorrow."

"Are you off duty?" Hercules asked him tonelessly and received a nod. "Good. Go home. I don't want to see you get hurt.

* * *

The guard never knew what hit him. Obviously not used to anyone attempting to break _into_ the jail, he had allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. He never heard a sound or saw a stray shadow as the demigod snuck up behind him and, with one blow, knocked him senseless.

As Hercules checked to see if the man was still breathing, something inside of him was screaming, demanding to know why he cared when Iolaus was suffering somewhere inside.

His rational side, however, was trying desperately to regain control. It was arguing that the boy had admitted that he hadn't actually _seen_ Iolaus being mistreated, only assumed so from pieces of overheard conversation.

Yes, the law was obviously corrupt as far as the trials went, but surely the magistrate wouldn't risk the public outcry that would arise from such cruelty.

Uninformed people could be tricked by a fake trial, but when faced with obvious abuse, a whole town surely wouldn't turn its head.

Wouldn't there be at least one voice of reason?

He dragged the unconscious guard out of sight, gagging him and binding his hands and feet, before working his way quietly inside the building.

* * *

As he made his way down the corridor, following the boy's instructions, his anxiety began to grow.

The small prison was so dark and cold. A strange, yet familiar aura permeated the place. He recognized the feeling all too well.

The unmistakable presence of death.

He stopped outside of a room that was quite larger than the rest. Thanatos' icy hand had touched this place often.

Something seemed to pull him inside and he stared in horror at the vast array of devises obviously used to induce as much pain as possible in their victims.

Then he saw the table. Fresh blood stained its rough surface, and hanging off the side was a leather thong.

Nerveless fingers reached out and pulled the strap from the wood it had snagged on. From the worn leather hung a medallion . . . actually half of a medallion, the pendant having been shorn in half by a knife.

The memory of the knife hurling through the air and plunging into his friend's heart stole his breath.. The hunter's death had nearly destroyed him. He couldn't go through that again.

"Gods, Iolaus . . . " His heart clenching in his chest, he turned and hurried back down the corridor, unconcerned with discovery. If anyone tried to stop him from reaching his friend, their blood would flow as surely as Iolaus' had.

* * *

There were three cells. The first two were completely empty, but as he came to the third he could hear the sound of labored breathing. Through the dark shadows, he could see his friend's small form chained to the far wall. The hunter's head hung to his chest and his whole body sagged against his bonds.

"Iolaus!" he called, but received no response. "I'm here, my friend, and I'm going to get you out."

Metal creaked and screamed as the cell door was ripped from the hinges. Mindless of the sound, Hercules threw the heavy door behind him with enough force to embed it in the stone wall. By that time he had already crossed the cell and was snapping the chains holding the hunter.

He gently cradled his friend in his arms and carried him to a small cot where he began to check his wounds, his fury growing with each one he found. Iolaus' back was torn and bloody from scores of lash marks. Bruises and small burns covered his body. There didn't seem to be any broken bones thankfully.

Suddenly the small body spasmed in his arms and he looked at the hunter's face to find wide, unfocused, pain-filled eyes staring at him. The hunter began to fight against him and he had to catch the flailing hands.

"Iolaus! Iolaus, it's me. It's Hercules. Calm down. I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore," he spoke slowly and softly, trying to reassure his friend.

Tears trickled from the blue eyes, alarming the demigod further, as the blonde continued to try and get his hands free. He opened his mouth, just slightly, and that was when Hercules noticed the white foam coating the hunter's lips.

"Gods, what-?" He tore some cloth from his shirt and used it to clear his friend's mouth of the thick saliva and used the dim light filtering into the cell to look into his mouth. His eyes widened in horror at the damage he saw, and began to fill with tears of sympathy for his friend and fury at the monsters who had done this. He pulled his friend against his heart. "Oh, Iolaus, I'm so sorry, my friend. Don't worry, I'll get you out of here and we'll find a healer."

"A healer's not going to do him any good," a cold voice sneered from behind him. "You either. Conspiring with a witch is punishable by death."

The shudder that ran through the hunter at the sound of the voice told the demigod that this was one of those directly responsible for his friend's suffering. Squeezing his friend's hand, reassuringly, he turned to glare at the men standing before him. There were two guards and two men dressed in common clothing. He focused his attention on the latter two.

"You did that?" He motioned toward his friend.

"We enjoyed it." The one who'd spoken before smirked and realized too late that it was the wrong answer.

Something inside the demigod snapped and with a cry of rage he charged the four men. The gloating monster who had admitted to hurting his friend was the first he reached. He picked the man up by his throat and watched as he struggled against the iron grip. He could so easily choke the life from this man, or snap his neck with little thought.

He looked back at Iolaus, lying on the cot watching him with a horrified expression. Even after all this evil bastard had done to him, the hunter seemed to be begging the demigod to spare him. That look brought the demigod to his senses.

"You're not worth it," he snarled and flung the man away, watching him collide with the stone wall and slide, unconscious, to the floor.

The guards and the other man had fled the moment the demigod had attacked their leader, so he went back to the cot and gingerly picked his friend up.

"Let's get you out of here," he said softly as he carried the hunter from the cell.

* * *

Clutching his friend's limp body to his heart, Hercules wound his way through the halls of the prison. He kept an eye out for any resistance, but surprisingly came across none.

Then, as he started to exit, the reason for his good fortune became obvious. The guards and the other man from the cell were lying unconscious outside the jail. The innkeeper, Gilecor, and the young guard, who the demigod had learned was the man's son, were binding their hand's and feet.

"Hercules!" the older man called when he saw him standing there. "Bring your friend over behind the stables. We have a cart waiting." He motioned for the demigod to follow him as his son drug the men out of sight.

"Why are you doing this?" Hercules asked a few minutes later as they were getting the hunter positioned as comfortably as possible in the back of the wagon.

Iolaus winced and looked up at the demigod with pleading, agony filled eyes.

"I'm sorry, Iolaus. I know it hurts. I wish I could take the pain away." Hercules told him softly, his heart breaking at the sight of his beloved friend in such pain. Iolaus began moving his lips, frustration getting the better of him when no sound issued forth. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. Don't try to talk. We'll get you to a healer and get you fixed right up. You'll be singing again in no time." It sounded like a lie even to him.

Gilecor handed him a blanket and he nodded gratefully as he wrapped the cover securely around his friend and moved to sit beside him, an arm around Iolaus' shoulders and the golden head resting on his shoulder. The younger man climbed onto the seat next to his father and they headed out of town toward Corinth.

"No one will be at the jail until late tomorrow morning, so we should be able to get almost a day's lead on them," the older man said over his shoulder as soon as they were on the outskirts of the village.

"But what about the magistrate? Are you sure-?"

"Positive," the man chuckled. "See, he always stops by the inn at the same time every night . . . when he wakes tomorrow, it'll be quite a while before he can see straight, let alone head for the jail." He looked over his shoulder and winked at the demigod.

"But why are you doing this?" The demigod repeated his question from earlier. "It's a huge risk . . . "

"We've been silent too long. This whole town has turned its head time and again while the magistrate has tortured and killed dozens of innocent people in the name of some archaic law." The older man looked at the demigod, a great sadness in his eyes. "I tried years ago to change things. My wife and daughter were banished from the village and Purtinas threatened to execute them if I didn't keep my mouth shut. They've both since disappeared and I fear he killed them anyway."

Hercules reached forward and squeezed the man's shoulder sympathetically, as he looked down at the now sleeping hunter.

"Why Iolaus?"

"In this town all it takes is for one person to accuse you. In Iolaus' case all he did was fend off the advances of Britanus' new wife. The little whore got caught coming onto him and told Britanus that Iolaus had bewitched her. He's extremely superstitious, so there was little doubt he'd buy the excuse. She was able to get off the hook and get back at Iolaus for refusing her in one shot." The younger man snorted in disgust.

They rode on in silence for a while. Hercules kept a close eye on his friend's breathing and watched for any signs of fever. He was just running his hand over the hunter's forehead when the wagon hit a rut and there was a loud crack.

The wagon lurched to the side, jarring Iolaus awake and threatening to spill them out of the bed. Hercules held onto his friend with one arm and held on tight to the side of the wagon with the other. He could hear the two men on the front calling for the horses to stop and trying to keep the wagon from turning over.

Finally the wagon lumbered to a stop, the rear of the wagon riding lower than the front on the right side. The two men hopped down from the front and went back to inspect the damage.

"By the gods," Gilecor swore under his breath. He looked up at the demigod and shook his head. "The wheel and axle have both snapped. There's no way to fix it." He looked down the road and then to the sky where the first rays of dawn were already beginning to cut through the darkness. "We won't be able to get back and pick up another wagon before the guards discover your friend is gone." He gave the demigod an apologetic frown.

"Is there another town nearby?" the demigod asked hopefully. He would carry his friend as far as needed, but if they didn't find shelter before the magistrate came looking, it would be no use.

"Not for two days travel." The younger man glanced at the forest surrounding them, then looked at his father. "The Old One?"

"We don't even know if she's still alive."

"Who?" Hercules looked from one man to the other. "If there's someone who can help . . . "

"It's not that easy, Hercules. Even if she's still alive, we have no way of knowing if she'll help."

"Who is this 'Old One'?"

"She's a witch."

"A witch?! But the magistrate . . . the town . . . " Hercules looked at them in confusion. "If they did this to Iolaus because they thought he might be one, why would they-?"

"Simple," Gilecor cut him off. "They can't catch her. She lives somewhere in these woods and most people are too afraid to enter. They're supposed to be enchanted; filled with satyrs, hydras, dryads . . . No one has actually seen any of them of course, but it's enough to keep people out." He smiled a bit at the thought. "She used to do a lot of healing for the village, but when the magistrate began the persecutions, she disappeared into the forest."

"Well, it's not enough to keep me out. How do I find her?" The demigod set his jaw in determination as he made his way out of the wagon and reached back in to lift Iolaus into his arms.

"If you make your way to the center of the woods, you should find a clearing in the shape of a circle. In the center is a large stump. You lay Iolaus on the stump and then move away. If she decides to help, she'll call you forth." He placed a hand on the demigod's arm. "Take care and stay hidden. We'll try and get back soon with another wagon."

"Thank you, my friends. Please, don't risk more than you have already. If you can't safely come back, wait til my brother, King Iphicles, comes. You can tell him where to find us." He smiled his thanks to both men and noticed Iolaus was weakly doing the same. He hugged his friend a bit tighter and then headed off into the thick copse.

* * *

As Hercules made his way through the forest, it became clear why so many avoided it. Even as the day broke very little light truly filtered in through the deep canopy. The forest was shrouded in shadow and soon strange noises became audible. Howls, moans, and what sounded like bones clanging together drifted around them. He tightened his grip on his sleeping friend reflexively.

As he passed under a tree, moving the thick shrubbery aside, the sound of bones rattling seemed to come from directly above him. He quickly moved back a few steps, on guard at the familiar sound of an approaching dryad. As he gathered himself once more, he scanned the tree for any signs of imminent attack.

A smile came over his face as he noticed the small bundle of animal bones tied to a branch, high in the tree. As he inspected the area, he noticed a small vine wound round the tree, leading from the bushes to the bones.

"Very clever," he muttered and looked down at his sleeping friend. "An old hunter's trick."

As he began moving once more, he kept an eye out on the overhead foliage. Soon the sources of the howls and moans also became evident. Hollow wooden tubes had be placed high in the air where even the slightest breeze would produce an ominous sound. A sure way of scaring off unwelcome . . . and highly superstitious . . . visitors.

Finally, he stepped through the brush and out into a brightly lit clearing. As he looked around, he noticed the almost perfectly circular shape of the clearing. In the center was a large tree stump. As he approached, he was amazed by how large the tree that once stood there must have been.

The surface of the stump was smooth and had been etched with various symbols around its circumference. He studied their surroundings, but the lack of light in the surrounding brush made it impossible to tell if he was being observed. Long experience, however, told him he was.

Gently laying Iolaus on the stump, he arranged him as comfortably as possible. The hunter began to stir and he gently stroked his friend's hair, murmuring soothing words, until Iolaus stilled and slipped fully back into a deep sleep.

Reluctantly, the demigod backed away. He stood just at the edge of the clearing, watching and waiting.

"I'm assuming this was the magistrate's doing."

Hercules was so intent on watching his friend that, when the voice suddenly appeared behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Spinning around, he found himself looking at a small elderly woman. Her eyes were a deep grey and seemed to sparkle with life. Her face, though clearly showing time's passage, held the warmth and beauty of youth. She stood, seeming to look right through him, leaning on a long wooden staff. The staff was made of wood that matched the stump where his friend lay. The top of the staff holding a round crystal that seemed to glow with a light of its own.

"Well, are you just going to stand there gaping, Son of Zeus, or are we going to go help your friend?" Without waiting for an answer, the woman walked purposefully past him, using her staff to move him out of her way.

Hercules followed the woman, amazed to find that he almost had to run to keep up with her. He watched as she placed her staff at the side of the stump and leaned over Iolaus, carefully inspecting the blonde. He could hear her making clucking sounds as she examined the external damage. She looked carefully at his face and opened the hunter's mouth. A disgusted sigh escaped her as she saw the damage to the blonde's mouth and throat.

"By the Goddess, that evil man will get his punishment eventually, but how many more innocents have to suffer til then?" She looked up at the demigod. "Pick him up and follow me."

Hercules scooped his friend into his arms once more and followed the old woman into the thick brush. He had a hard time keeping up with her, but finally they came to a small cottage. The demigod couldn't help being impressed. Until they were literally on the doorstep, the house had not been visible. Vines and other plant life had grown as a natural camouflage on its exterior. This combined with the deep shadows would make it almost impossible to find without knowing its precise location.

"Put him on the bed and get those clothes off of him," the woman ordered as they entered a small room off to the right of the entrance.

Hercules was glad to see that it was an actual bed and not just a cot. His friend had been through so much that even this small comfort seemed a blessing. Iolaus awoke as he was placed on the bed and looked around the room, giving the demigod a questioning look.

"It's alright. We found her . . . the 'Old One'. She's going to help you, Iolaus." Hercules smiled reassuringly at his friend. "We have to get you undressed so she can look at your wounds."

Soon, the hunter was clad only in his breechclout and Hercules helped him to get under the bed sheets, laying him on his stomach. Iolaus' pain-filled blue eyes stayed locked on his friend and Hercules knew that the blonde's inability to communicate was frightening him more than the pain.

"Well, I see my patient is awake. Good." The woman came over, placing a tray on the table, and bent down to look the hunter in the eyes. "Ah, yes. The eyes tell all. A good, strong heart beats within you." She then took a closer look at his back, making soothing sounds as the blonde tensed beneath her touch. "No infection. You're a very lucky man in that respect." She picked up a cloth from the tray and soaked it in a bowl of warm water. "This is going to hurt I'm afraid, but I have to be sure those wounds are cleaned properly." She began cleaning the cuts and weals as gently as she could while still being thorough in the job. "There, there, Iolaus. You'll be fine," she soothed.

Hercules looked at the woman in shock. He'd been taken aback earlier when she'd called him 'Son of Zeus', but had been too worried about Iolaus to pay it much mind.

"How do you know who we are?" he asked.

"Knowledge comes from many sources."

The old woman smiled at him, but said no more on the matter.

"Well, then, since you know us, might we have a bit of knowledge about you as well. Such as your name?"

"Amara." She finished cleaning the wounds and turned back to pick up another bowl. Dipping her already wet cloth into the thick resin. She finally looked up at the demigod. "Myrrh will help to seal these wounds. Then we will wrap them and I will see to his other wounds."

Hercules assisted her in bandaging the hunter, grimacing every time his friend winced in pain and wishing he could make the pain disappear. Once they were finished, Amara piled some pillows up by the headboard and instructed him to prop Iolaus up against them. Finally, after Iolaus had settled and was as comfortable as possible, the old woman sat beside him and had him open his mouth for her.

"Lye." She shook her head in disgust. "They refer to it as 'cleansing the soul.' I believe they should take a look at their own souls before worrying about other peoples'," she muttered angrily, turning to her mortar and pestle.

Hercules watched as she mixed together some ground nettle, plantain, and a few other herbs he wasn't certain of. Adding some hot water from a small kettle, she poured the mixture into a cup and presented it to the hunter. He wasn't at all surprised when Iolaus made a face at the smell and pulled back in disgust.

"None of that, young man. Your throat is scarred and if we don't cleanse it, it will only get worse and could completely close off. I don't believe you would like to die from suffocation after all of this . . . would you?"

Her straight-forward manner was all the motivation the hunter needed. In no time the cup was completely drained. Amara and Hercules both couldn't help smiling at the revolted look on the blonde warrior's face.

"Here. Chew on this." She gave her patient a small piece of ginger root. "It'll help ease the pain." She then turned to the demigod. "And you can come help me in the kitchen." She headed for the door and turned to look at the hesitant demigod. "Iolaus will be fine. Come along."

Hercules placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed affectionately, giving him a reassuring smile before following the healer out of the room.

* * *

"Well?" Amara stood by the fire, an eyebrow cocked, as she looked at the demigod expectantly.

"Well what?" Hercules asked with an almost nervous laugh as he lay his spoon on his plate. The woman had a way of looking at him that seemed as though she were gazing at his very soul.

"Well, when are you going to ask me the question you've been chewing over more than your lunch."

"I told you I wasn't very hungry . . . "

"And I told you I didn't believe you." She gestured at his empty plate, giving him a look that dared him to argue now. "Now, are you going to ask the question or would you rather I asked it for you?"

"Ok. The two men that brought us here called you a witch . . . "

"And?" she prompted as he stopped.

"Well, you knew who Iolaus and I were and you had only just set eyes on us . . . "

"And you want to know if I am what they say," it was a statement, not a question. The demigod nodded silently as Amara sized him up. "And what would you do if I said it was? Would you take your friend and flee? Would you seek my destruction?"

"No. Of course not. I was just-"

"That was why you were in Salemia to begin with though, was it not? A call to come, seek out, and destroy any witches that you found?" She looked him in the eye, steadily.

"No!" Hercules denied vehemently, then sighed. "Yes, we were asked to look for witches, but we didn't come to destroy. Just the opposite. We came to try and keep anyone from being hurt. We never believed we'd actually find any . . . "

"But your friend got hurt and you _have_ found one." She smiled sadly at him. "Yes, I am a follower of the Old Ways. A member of a faith that dates back to when Man first appeared on this planet. Unfortunately, there are those that feel that if we dare follow a path that differs from the established Pantheon we are evil and must be destroyed." She moved over to sit beside him and placed a hand on his. "Your friend found out the hard way that most of those that suffer have no affiliation with those truly being persecuted. Each time a new religion of the people arises we of the Old Ways disappear into the crowd, practicing in secret. We have survived the rise of the Greek Gods, we will survive any that come after . . . by keeping to ourselves." She squeezed his hand and stood again. "Purtinas isn't the first. He won't be the last." She made her way back to the small bowl of broth that was cooling near the fire.

"Maybe not, but I intend to make sure he pays for what he's done here."

"I'm sure you will." Amara smiled at him, handing him the bowl. "Take this to your friend. He is all you need be concerned with for now. I have some things to see to. I'll return soon." She picked up her staff and headed out the door.

* * *

"Iolaus, please. You have to eat something." the demigod implored, trying yet again to bring the spoon up to his friend's mouth. When the hunter had refused to feed himself, he'd resorted to trying to spoon feed him; earning himself some deadly looks in the process. "C'mon, Buddy. I know it's hard, but you have to keep your strength up."

Iolaus turned his head away stubbornly, just as Amara reentered the cabin. She could see the frustrated demigod was beginning to lose his patience.

"So, what's going on here. Hercules, he should've already had that whole bowl eaten by now," she scolded lightly.

"I've been trying. He refuses to eat!"

"Iolaus." When the blonde ignored her, she promptly banged her staff hard against the floor. "Iolaus!" Startled blue eyes looked up at her. "Eat. Now." was all she said before turning and heading into the kitchen.

' _Yeah,_ that _will work. I've been here fighting with him for twenty minutes and she thinks two words-_ '

His thoughts were cut off as his friend reached weakly for the spoon and bowl he still held. He watched with a mixture of surprise and exasperation as the hunter slowly began to eat. The exasperation quickly gave way to sympathy as he watched his friend wince as the liquid made its way down his abused throat.

Despite the pain, Iolaus obediently emptied the bowl. As soon as it was finished, however, he made sure his opinion of the broth was known. He handed the bowl back to the demigod, making a particularly sour face as he did so.

"That good, huh?" Hercules laughed softly. Then he noticed the strong look his friend was giving him. "What's wrong? You need something?"

Iolaus nodded and tried to speak. When he failed to make any audible sound, he began to grow frustrated. He grabbed Hercules' shirt and tried harder, succeeding only upsetting himself further.

"Hey. Hey. Easy." The demigod soothed. "Give yourself time. We'll figure something out."

"Try signals."

Both men jumped, not having realized Amara had reentered the room.

"Signals?" The demigod gave her a confused look.

"Yes. Hand signals. You two are warriors. Haven't you ever had to use hand signals because you couldn't risk speaking?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Iolaus," she interrupted, concentrating on her patient. "If this were enemy territory and you couldn't risk speaking, how would you signal to Hercules that you were hungry?"

Iolaus stared at her for a moment, then slowly brought his hand up to his mouth as though he were bringing a spoon to his lips.

"Okay, good. Now think of a signal for what you were trying to tell Hercules."

Iolaus thought for just a moment, then brought his hand to his mouth once more; this time as though he held a cup.

"Well, I think that's obvious enough," the demigod smiled.

* * *

The first few days passed well enough. Iolaus was slowly regaining his strength and his wounds were healing nicely. He and Hercules worked together on signals and by the third day had established a good sized vocabulary.

Amara tended to keep her distance, allowing them their privacy, except for changing Iolaus' bandages and administering her healing brews. She would make her way to the village each day, despite Hercules' objections, to watch for Iphicles' arrival. Something was obviously bothering her when she arrived back after her fourth trip to town, but she refused to tell the demigod what was wrong.

On top of the witch's moodiness, that night, Hercules found himself presented with a new problem. Though Iolaus had been subdued the first few days, he had seemed to be taking his disability in stride. Now, he seemed to be going downhill. He'd kept signaling the demigod by tapping his finger on his chest and then opening and closing his hand in front of his mouth.

"I know you want to speak, Iolaus. I would love that, too. I miss hearing your voice-" He cut himself off as Iolaus began shaking his head and signaled that this wasn't what the demigod had said before. Hercules felt like a dagger had plunged into his heart. "Oh, Iolaus. I'm so sorry. I was in a bad mood that morning, but I should never have taken it out on you. I felt so guilty afterwards, but I didn't have a chance to tell you. I never meant to hurt your feelings." He squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Believe me, Buddy, I would give anything to hear you say my name again or sing one of those gods awful songs you like so well." He smiled sadly as he remembered some of the more bawdy tunes that Iolaus had blessed him with over the years. He saw the shadow grow in his friend's eyes and he tried to sound cheerful. "Hey! At least you can still tell me jokes and share your stories. We can still have conversations. The world hasn't ended, Iolaus. It's just changed a bit."

Iolaus nodded half-heartedly and as the night wore on, he not only refused supper, but barely used any signals whatsoever. When he declined to get up and walk to the dining room, as Amara had told him he could, Hercules really began to worry. Iolaus always hated staying bedridden and was notorious for his escape attempts. Now, when he had permission to try, he chose instead to remain there and go to sleep early.

Hercules sighed inwardly. It killed him to see his friend so depressed. 'Especially since it's all your fault.' He tried to ignore the little voice, but couldn't. 'You put your precious morals and sense of justice ahead of your best friend and look what happened to him. Where's the justice in this? You knew he was innocent, why did you let them take him?' - 'I didn't think they'd hurt him. I thought I could clear it up before anything happened. Torture is supposed to be against the law in this province.' He countered. 'And since when does the law matter where superstition and fear are concerned? Wasn't the whole reason you agreed to take part in this witch hunt because you were afraid something like this could happen? Yet at the first false accusation you encounter, you throw your best friend to the wolves!'

* * *

Hercules entered the house carrying an armload of firewood and deposited the logs by the fireplace, before turning to look at his friend. Amara had ordered Iolaus out of bed before lunch and the hunter had been sitting in the living room ever since.

"Has Amara gotten back yet?"

A single shake of the golden head.

A feeling of unease settled over the demigod. It wasn't like her to be gone this long. Something was wrong.

"I'm going to go look for her. Don't go outside the house until I get back." He waited for some kind of acknowledgment and when none came, he moved over to his friend, kneeling down to look him in the eye. "Please promise me, Iolaus. As long as you're inside they can't find you. Promise me you'll stay inside."

Iolaus finally nodded, striking his fist to his chest above his heart and accepting the warrior's handshake the demigod offered.

"I'll be back soon," Hercules promised before heading out.

* * *

As Hercules reached the outer edges of the forest that led to the outskirts of the village, his fears began to grow . . . along with his guilt.

'It's not bad enough you let Iolaus be tortured? Now you have to let an old lady take a risk that should have been yours.' Hard as he tried, he couldn't escape the voice. 'How many more are you going to let suffer before you're through?'

The voice was soon drowned out, however, as he heard the sound of an angry mob from within the village. Grabbing a cloak off a nearby clothesline, he quickly pulled the garment over his head and fastened it as he made his way to the center of town.

As he approached, he could see the magistrate standing on a platform surrounded by what must have been the whole population of the village. He made his way into the crowd, searching for Amara. He thought he spotted her and made his way toward the center of the audience. As he approached, however, he saw that the woman was much too young. She glanced at him and he smiled back; she was very beautiful, but not who he was looking for.

"Do you confess your crime?!" The magistrate's voice suddenly carried out over the mob and Hercules got a good look at what was going on.

"Gods, no . . . " he breathed.

Directly behind the magistrate was a small dais and on it lay Gilecor. A large piece of wood had been placed upon his chest and a pile of rocks rested atop it.

"All you have to do is confess and tell us where they are and you will be shown mercy." The magistrate seemed to be playing to the crowd more than addressing his victim.

Hercules began to charge forward, intent on stopping the pressing, but stopped as a hand caught his arm. He turned to find the young woman he'd spotted moments earlier.

"It's too late, Hercules. Don't make his sacrifice a vain one."

"Amara?!" The demigod was completely shocked at her appearance. She looked to be no more than twenty years of age, but the familiar grey eyes showed the true passage of time, despite the guise. "I have to help him. After all he did for Iolaus, I can't just leave him to die like this!"

"You have no choice," the witch informed him sadly and turned back to the spectacle before them.

"Do you have anything to say?" Purtinas demanded at that moment.

There was silence as the innkeeper struggled to draw enough breath.

"One more rock."

There was a general gasp of shock among the assembled throng, but his wish was fulfilled.

"NO!" Hercules had attempted to force his way through the throng once more, but realized suddenly that he was indeed too late as the man's chest gave in under the weight. He stopped and closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold back the bitter tears that threatened to spill. He could feel Amara's hand on his arm, but shrugged it away.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The demigod looked up at the familiar, regal-sounding voice. Turning, he saw his brother sitting astride his white stallion, a contingent of soldiers and his personal healer surrounding him.

Everyone, with the exception of the demigod, bowed down as the King dismounted and strode toward the platform. Several of his personal guard followed him up onto the stage as he looked down at Gilecor's crushed body.

"Who's responsible for this?!" Iphicles demanded, his eyes boring through the magistrate.

"Your Majesty . . . he was conspiring with witches. He aided in their escape and refused to confess-"

"So, you took it upon yourself to break the law?!" Iphicles roared, silencing him with a look. "You are supposed to enforce the laws in this province, are you not?"

"Yes, I am . . . I mean I was, Your Majesty," he stammered, flustered.

"Then you should know that pressing was made illegal twenty years ago!"

"I believe torture was outlawed as well!" Iphicles and Purtinas both turned to see Hercules advancing toward the stage, his rage-filled eyes focused on the magistrate. "Yet the magistrate has been employing it as a means of drawing confessions from his prisoners."

"Y-your Majesty, this man helped a convicted witch escape from jail! Surely you're not going to take the word of a witch's conspirator over that of a public official!"

"No, you're right. I'm not." Iphicles looked the man in the eye and his voice grew dangerously quiet. "I'm going to take my brother's word over yours. Guards! Take this man to the jail and while you're locking him up, release any prisoners and bring them here!" As Purtinas was dragged away, he turned to Hercules, clasping his arm. "I'm sorry we didn't arrive earlier. By the time your messenger found us, we were several leagues away from Corinth."

At the mention of the messenger, the demigod turned to scan the crowd. He spotted the boy with Amara. She was holding him while he cried out his grief. He noticed Iphicles looking at the boy as well and motioned toward the innkeeper's still form.

"His father," Hercules said simply.

"Damn. Such a waste," the king breathed, then met his brother's eye. "How's Iolaus?"

"He's alive. No thanks to Purtinas and his goons. He's weak, but most of his wounds are healing." He took a steadying breath. "They poured lye down his throat, Iph. He can't talk."

Iphicles closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He'd known Iolaus since they were children. He couldn't remember a time when the blonde wasn't chattering on about one thing or another. Talking was like breathing to the hunter and he couldn't picture Iolaus otherwise.

"Well, there will be a trial and I can assure you that if and when Purtinas is found guilty he will be punished properly. I know it's small consolation, but these crimes will not go unanswered. I promise you that."

"Thank you, Iphicles. I have to get back to Iolaus now. I was forced to leave him alone." He looked around at the faces in the crowd. Confused and frightened faces. "You're going to have your hands full here. Iolaus and I will meet you at the inn tomorrow."

The brothers said their farewells and Hercules made his way to the woods where Amara stood, waiting for him. Her youthful guise melted away as they headed for the cottage. They walked in silence until they were nearly to the clearing.

"Are you ever going to say anything or are you going to wallow in guilt silently?" The old witch regarded him steadily. "There was nothing you could do. It was his time-"

"No! Don't give me that! It was not 'his time'! He was murdered." He looked down at her as they walked on. "How can you be so unfeeling about this. He was killed for helping suspected witches. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Suddenly she struck out with her staff, hitting him behind his knees and knocking him unceremoniously on his rear. She stood over him, looking down, her grey eyes blazing.

"Never say I don't care, Hercules." Her voice was like ice. "You are the one who had such unswerving faith in the law. Now you see that the law is only as just as those that enforce it. Good people are hurt or killed by injustice everyday. Gilecor knew this already. He didn't need to see your friend tortured to prove that to himself, but he was willing to die to protect Iolaus' right to live." She took a breath and looked around. "I begged him to reconsider. To at least send them in the wrong direction and buy time for your brother to arrive. I knew that he would arrive today. The Goddess shows me visions of the future . . . she showed Gilecor as well. He knew what would happen, yet he chose to follow this path." She turned and began walking again, knowing that the demigod was walking just behind. "He always used to say that this village was shrouded in a silence so loud it was blinding. His death spoke louder than words ever could and forced people to open their eyes and see what was going on around them."

"He was a good man," Hercules said softly.

"He was a wonderful son."

* * *

When they entered the cottage, they found Iolaus, still in the chair, sound asleep. Hercules smiled sadly, it was a testament to the hunter's weakened state that he slept through their arrival. Normally, he'd have awakened at the first sound.

"C'mon, Buddy," the demigod said softly as he picked his friend up. "The bed would be much more comfortable."

The hunter awoke as he was laid on the bed. His blue eyes looked up at his friend, questioningly.

"Everything's okay now, Iolaus. I found Amara and Iphicles has arrived in Salemia. We'll spend another night here and then we're going back to the village." He saw fear flicker in the cerulean orbs and his heart clenched at the sight. "It's okay. Iph has arrested the magistrate. You'll be safe." He hesitated a moment before continuing, "You may have to appear at his trial though."

Iolaus looked at his friend for a long moment and his eyes hardened with determination as he nodded. He couldn't shake the underlying fear of returning to that village. He'd suffered so much at those people's hands. However, the desire to see his tormenters brought to justice overrode any fear. He wanted them punished; not just for himself, but for all the people that had been tortured and murdered before his own imprisonment and for those that could potentially face the same ordeals in the future.

"Iolaus, there's more." Hercules took a deep breath. "Do you remember Gilecor? The innkeeper that helped us?" Iolaus nodded slowly, then his eyes widened and the demigod could read the question in them. "He's dead. He was . . . The magistrate killed him because he wouldn't turn us in. He gave his life for us, Iolaus." The demigod was having trouble keeping his emotions in check.

Iolaus knew the look on his friend's face well. He reached over and picked up a scroll and quill from the side table. Writing quickly, he handed the scroll to his friend and squeezed the demigod's arm.

He was a hero then. Don't take that from him. I wish he hadn't died, but it was his choice. Feeling guilty only makes it more about you than him. That's not right.

Hercules read the words and recognized the wisdom in them. Unfortunately, he knew that if he hadn't allowed them to take Iolaus in the first place, Gilecor would not have been arrested for aiding them in their escape.

_Hercules stood before the dais. Gilecor lay, his chest caved in, staring at him with lifeless eyes._

_"This was my choice. My sacrifice. Don't cheapen it with your guilt," the words came from the corpse's mouth. "Because of my death, the horrors will end. My sons can live without fear. Look to where your guilt truly lies. It is not with me."_

_"Hercules! Help me!"_

_He stood in the doorway of the cell, watching in horror as Iolaus was beaten. Not far from the hunter, watching dispassionately, was a replica of himself._

_"Why?! Why did you let them take me?!" the blonde screamed in accusation._

_"I had to, Iolaus. This is the law. I'm Hercules. I have to uphold the law at all costs. I'm sorry, but you are not as important as the law." His dream self replied emotionlessly._

_"Hercules, please! I thought we were friends! I thought you cared about me! Help!!"_

_He watched as the men forced Iolaus' head back and poured the lye down his throat. He watched as Iolaus lay, convulsing, his eyes full of pain and betrayal as they bore into him._

_"I care about the law." He heard himself say the cold words. "Nothing is more important than that. Not even our friendship. Not even your life."_

_"NO!!" he screamed, moving forward. He tossed the men hurting his friend into the walls, not caring if they lived or died. He took his friend in his arms, talking to him as he glared at his double, tears streaming down his face. "Nothing is more important than you, Iolaus! Nothing! I'm sorry! I never should've let them take you! I should've remembered where my priorities lay! I'm so sorry!"_

"I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . "

A gentle shaking awoke the demigod and he found himself looking up at his friend's concerned visage. He hadn't even realized he'd drifted off. He was still sitting in the chair beside his friend's bed, where he'd continued to sit until the blonde had fallen to sleep earlier. Now he was sitting there, tears streaming down his face, and the images from the nightmare still very clear to him. He reached out, pulling his startled friend into a fierce hug.

"I'm so sorry, Iolaus. I never should've allowed them to take you. I knew the charges were ridiculous, I should've kept you with me until it got straightened out. I let them hurt you and I can never forgive myself for that. I never should've put the law before justice . . . and especially not before you."

Iolaus didn't move, allowing the demigod to hold him while he cried out his guilt. The blonde thought back to the first night after he'd been beaten relentlessly for hours on end. His tormentors had known just how to administer the beatings so that they were adequately painful, but only moderately damaging physically. He'd suffered silently through the abuse, but his mind had been screaming.

Where was Hercules?! He'd been hurt by his friend's harsh words and then, when the demigod had allowed him to be taken on such bogus charges, he'd felt utterly betrayed. Hercules knew him. He knew that he wasn't what they were claiming. So why had he allowed them to take him? Where was he while they were hurting him? Then when the lye had eaten at his throat, during all the excruciating pain, the same thoughts had kept going through his mind over and over: Why had his best friend stood by and allowed this to happen to him? Didn't he care? It was the first time he'd ever lost faith in his friend and he'd nearly died from heartbreak.

Then the demigod had stormed his cell, rescuing him and fighting his tormentors. He'd seen the anguish and love in his friend's eyes and his doubts had melted away instantly as he realized it was the pain that had driven him to think the worst of his friend. He truly must've been out of his head to doubt his friend for even a moment. Whatever reasons Hercules had for leaving him, it was obvious the demigod would've given his life to stop his suffering if he had known what was happening. He couldn't forget what had happened to him, but he'd forgiven his friend in that instant.

Iolaus wrapped his arms around his friend and squeezed as much as he was able, trying to convey his forgiveness and love for his friend in that embrace.

Hercules thought his heart would burst when he felt his friend hugging him back. Iolaus was letting him know that their friendship was intact and the demigod wondered, not for the first time, at the size of his friend's heart. Iolaus had a capacity for forgiveness that amazed the demigod and he was grateful once more to the fates for blessing him with such a remarkable friend. He swore that Iolaus would never suffer again because of his short-sightedness.

Amara stood in the doorway, smiling as she watched the two men embrace. Together, their hearts would heal. The bond between them was obvious and she watched their auras intermingle. They had been destined to be friends from birth. Soulmates in the truest sense of the word.

She was sorry that the demigod's eyes had to be opened to the truth in such a horrific manner. His reaction after discovering that Gilecor had been her son still ran through her mind. He'd been shocked at the revelation, of course, but then he'd wondered how she could stand to be in his presence.

_"Because of me your son is dead . . . and my best friend has suffered so much. I'm amazed you're able to even be near me without striking out at more than just my knees."_

_"Do you think it would make me feel better to adversely affect your ability to reproduce?" she'd asked with her usual sarcastic humor. "You made a mistake, Hercules. You could not foresee what would happen to your friend. He is the only one who can condemn or forgive for that grievance . . . besides yourself of course. I believe you're punishing yourself more than anyone else would be capable of."_ _She held up a hand, silencing him when he began to interrupt. "As for my son, I grieved when he told me his choice. That's what it was, though, his choice . . . no one else's. He was perfectly aware of the fact that it would be impossible for them to find us in my woods. The cottage is not the only safe haven. He could no longer allow the injustices to continue. His death was not in vain. The magistrate will be punished and this village will finally be free. No mother could ever be prouder of her son. I do not mourn for his death. I rejoice in his gift."_

'Time for another gift,' she thought and silently made her way out of the cottage with the small bag she was carrying.

The full moon shone brightly over the clearing, illuminating the witch as she cast her circle. The large stump, her altar, was set up and she held her athame high as she spoke the invocation of the Goddess. As she felt the power build, she pointed the athame at the object her Lady had instructed her to bring. The whole altar was illuminated by the glow of the horn at the center.

The magick complete, she thanked the Lady and cleared the temple, before making her way back to the house. The men were asleep by the time she got back so she took the gift into her room and went to bed.

* * *

Hercules watched his friend drink an herbal tea that Amara had given him to help prepare him for the long walk back to the village. Iolaus had flat out refused when the demigod had suggested a litter for the trip and the obscene signal he'd used when the demigod had suggested carrying him clearly stated his position on that. At that point, Hercules could see the hunter's old self returning and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd settled on an exaggerated sigh of strained patience. Iolaus had answered with a triumphant, cheeky smile that had warmed his friend's heart.

The old woman walked over to the demigod, pulling him aside and handing him an object wrapped in muslin.

"A gift. It's for Iolaus, but I believe it will benefit you both."

Hercules opened the wrapping and looked puzzled. In his hand was a large shell. He'd seen these before in Syros; the natives used them for horns.

"Thanks, but I don't-"

"Listen to me carefully, Son of Zeus," the witch interrupted. "When Iolaus speaks into the horn and the hunter sounds the instrument after, his voice shall be restored."

"But he can't talk . . . How could he possibly-," Hercules started, looking over at his friend.

"The secret is in the horn, it will tell you the way, you have only to listen ." She placed her hand on his for a moment, rewrapped the horn, then made her way back to the kitchen. She picked up a small pouch and handed it to the demigod as Iolaus moved to stand beside him. "Keep giving him these herbs in a tea. Twice a day for the next week." She reached forward and caressed the hunter's cheek. "And _you_ take them without giving him any problems. Understand?"

Iolaus smiled and mouthed the words 'Thank you' before hugging the elderly woman and moving to open the door as Hercules made his farewell.

"Thank you so much. Words can't describe how thankful I am . . . both to you and your son. I wish there was more I could do."

"Take care of your friend . . . and don't let people forget what happened here. That's all I ask of you."

"Those are two promises I know I can keep." Hercules told her solemnly, before turning and leaving the house.

Amara watched them go, the demigod's hand resting on his friend's shoulder, until they disappeared from view.

As they walked, Iolaus stopped only long enough to pick a handful of wild flowers. Hercules watched him, curiously, but said nothing. As they passed through the clearing, Iolaus laid the flowers on the stump and smiled up at his friend as they continued on.

Iphicles and Hercules stood silently, watching as Phyleus, Iphicles' personal healer, inspected Iolaus' various wounds.

"Well, I don't know who this woman is, but it's a good thing you found her," the healer murmured as he inspected the nearly healed wounds on the hunter's back. He'd already inspected Iolaus' mouth and had impressed all three seasoned warriors with his series of imaginative curses. "Left untreated any of these wounds could have become infected, of course, but the damage to Iolaus' throat . . . " He added a couple more curses. "I have no doubt that if Hercules hadn't taken him out of that jail and sought a healer when he did, Iolaus would not be here now."

"Did you get that?" Iphicles turned to his scribe.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The scribe finished making his notes. "I just had to . . . well . . . edit a bit of the healer's . . . umm . . . colorful monologue."

"Understandable." The king was trying to keep from smiling as he imagined how much editing had been necessary. He sobered quickly as he turned to the healer. "Phyleus, what about his voice?"

The healer glanced at the king, then turned back to look into Iolaus' eyes. He could see that the hunter had already expected what he was about to say. "I'm sorry. The damage is too great." He placed a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder. In truth, he was going to miss the little blonde's voice as well. Iolaus was a horrible patient, but the healer had always enjoyed his boisterous nature.

"No chance at all?" Hercules' disheartened whisper carried across the room. He hadn't told Iolaus about Amara's gift and now he was glad he hadn't gotten his friend's hopes up. 'If he can't speak into the horn what good is it?' He hadn't understood the instructions that Amara had given him. Iolaus had to speak in order to get his voice back. It was so contradictory. He'd begun to think that maybe she just meant if he could manage to rasp out a single word his voice would be completely restored. Now even that hope had vanished. The demigod looked over at his friend, the guilt evident in his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry, Iolaus." He ran a hand through his honey brown hair and sighed disgustedly. "Well, this is just great. The law that I've always defended so loudly is now responsible for the loss of my best friend's voice." He laughed mirthlessly, his eyes shadowed with guilt and sorrow. "So, I guess your silence will always be a reminder to me about how utterly useless the law truly is and how stupid I was for defending it for so long!"

"Hercules, would you listen to yourself?!" Iphicles snapped. "'I', 'me', 'my'! You're always taking everything that happens to someone you love as a personal affront against you. This happened to _Iolaus_ not to you!"

"Iphicles, how can I not take it personally?! If Iolaus hadn't been my friend, he wouldn't have been there. If he hadn't been my friend, maybe I would've actually stopped them. But, no, Hercules can't bend the law for his friends!"

"Hercules, you know that's-!"

"It was my fault he was taken!" the demigod snapped at his brother, thumping his chest for emphasis. "I put the law above him and found out exactly how the law works. Instead of defending the law all those years, I should've been trying to destroy it! It only helps those in charge, it doesn't help the people that are subject to it."

"Yes, this happened to Iolaus because you let them take him. You're right. In that regard it was your fault." The king sighed. "But you can't give up on the law, Brother. You just can't follow it blindly."

Iolaus had been listening to the exchange, unable to get either brother's attention. Finally, he walked over to the scribe, who was still trying to take notes, grabbed one of the man's extra scrolls and pulled the quill out of his hand. The man was so absorbed in trying to take the notes, it actually took him a moment to realize that his quill was missing.

The hunter scribbled a quick note and thrust it in Hercules' face, standing back with his arms crossed as he waited for him to read it. The demigod looked at his friend's set jaw and blazing blue eyes and read the note. A small silent chuckle shook him as he tried to decide if he wanted to laugh or cry. He saw Iphicles' curious gaze and read the note out loud.

"'I chose to be your friend. I chose to come here with you. If you don't stop talking like I had no choice in the matter, I'm going to choose to kick your butt from here to Corinth.'"

The blonde took the scroll back and began writing again. The others had stopped their arguing and just waited to see what he had to say. Finally, he thrust the parchment into his friend's hands.

'Now that I have your attention. When I was in that cell and they were torturing me, for a while I felt as though you had abandoned me. I thought you didn't care anymore. It about killed me. Then you showed up, fighting for me and I realized what I'd known from the start. You did what you thought was right. You were wrong, but once you realized that, you came to my rescue. You would never let anyone hurt me, intentionally. Don't give up on the law because of me. I've been fighting to defend it as long as you have. We just have to make it work for the people, not the other way around. Defend it, but let them have the right to change it when someone like Purtinas twists it to suit himself.'

Iphicles peered over his brother's shoulder, reading the note along with him. Once he'd finished, he smiled at the hunter.

"What's a bright guy like you doing traveling with this lunkhead?" He nodded toward his younger brother, then turned his attention to the demigod once more. "Well, he may not be able to talk, but he can speak very well. Now, Brother, will you listen to what he's saying?"

"Your Majesty?" a voice called from the door and they turned to see the captain of his guard standing there. "Everyone is assembled."

"I'm coming." Iphicles turned back to the hunter. "You don't have to come out until I call for you."

Iolaus smiled gratefully and nodded as the king left the room. When they were alone once more, he turned and looked to his friend expectantly.

Hercules met his gaze and gave a small sigh.

"I understand what you were saying, Iolaus. You're right and I was wrong." He laughed as he watched his friend look around quickly as though searching for someone. "Sorry, Buddy, the scribe went with Iphicles. Don't worry, though, if you want a record of it I'll be happy to say it again next time we see him." He sobered once more. "I am sorry, Iolaus. More sorry than I could ever tell you. I wish I could take it back and prevent what happened, but I can't." His voice reflected his despair at the admission. "I promise you, though, from now on I'm going to listen to my heart and head. No more blind faith in the law. I can't change what happened here, but I can try and make sure that it never happens again."

Iolaus smiled at his friend and took his hand in a warrior's handshake. He knew the demigod would keep his promise. It would be difficult for him to change his ways, but he was going to try. That's all the hunter could ask.

* * *

Hercules made his way through the crowd of spectators. The hearing was over and Iphicles was about to pass judgement on Purtinas and his cronies. Iolaus had left the building right after he'd been dismissed, presumably to get some air. That had been nearly half a sun-width earlier and the demigod was getting worried. He'd just opened the door to step out, when someone touched his arm. He turned to see Gilecor's older son standing behind him.

The young guard's arm was in a splint and he still hadn't regained his color since being released from the prison. Iphicles' men had arrived just in time to prevent Oyeris and Terminos from breaking his legs. Now not only was he free and his tormentors facing their own sentences, but he'd received an unexpected promotion from the king.

"Phipius." Hercules greeted the young man, smiling. "Or should I call you Magistrate?"

"How about Phip?" he laughed nervously. "I'm not sure I'm really ready for this."

"You'll do fine. My brother doesn't bestow promotions on just anyone." The demigod placed his hand on the new magistrate's good shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I think he made a wise decision. You and your father risked everything to help Iolaus. That was a courageous stand against injustice. I think you'll make a wonderful magistrate." He took a steadying breath. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that I couldn't save your father the way you saved Iolaus."

"Thank you, but there was nothing you could have done. My father was a man who could not be swayed once he'd made up his mind. He didn't step into this blindly. He knew what would happen, but he was determined to stop this madness. And he did." The pride and love in his voice was unmistakable.

"He was a very good man. I am honored to have known him, even if it was only for a very short time." Hercules commented earnestly. He then looked out the door, remembering where he had started in the first place. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go find Iolaus."

Phipius nodded his understanding and returned to the throng of spectators. Hercules watched him go, silently praising Gilecor for yet another great accomplishment. He had no doubt that this province was going to recover with the help of its new magistrate. He made his way out of the building and began looking for his friend.

* * *

He finally found Iolaus sitting under a tree; his chin resting in one hand while the other held a stick. He was poking the stick into the dirt in front of him while his eyes followed a small spider that was making its way past him, toward the tree.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." Hercules smiled down at his friend as Iolaus looked up, startled out of his thoughts. "They're getting ready to announce the sentencing. Don't you want to be there?"

The blonde shook his head and wrote in the dirt with his stick. Hercules craned his head to read the single word.

"'Why?'" He looked at his friend in confusion. "You helped to convict him, don't you want to see it through?"

Iolaus sighed and scratched out the original word, writing once more. He heard his friend sigh as the demigod leaned down and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, you're right. It won't change what's already happened. It can't give Gilecor and those other poor souls back their lives. It can't return your voice or reverse all the other suffering that they brought on. At least there will be some closure, though. This village will not have to live in fear anymore and no more innocents will suffer." He watched as the hunter scribbled something else. "Yes. I'm fairly certain they'll be executed. Iphicles doesn't like to order anyone's death, but in this case I don't think there's any other sentence he can hand down.

Iolaus looked at his friend and made a single sign: 'Good.'

Hercules smiled sadly and squeezed his friend's shoulder. Iolaus wasn't a vengeful person and, if it had only been he that had suffered, he would've been the first to ask for leniency. Unfortunately during the course of the hearing the true extent of the horrors became known.

* * *

_One of the guards had come up to inform them that Iolaus would be called forth soon; Iphicles was preparing to read the charges. They had shared a look and both moved to the door to listen._

_" . . . records kept by the village healer. This makes the death tally as follows: Four persons and a newborn infant dead of malnutrition and disease while held in the jail. Eighteen persons and two dogs hanged. And one man pressed to death." The king was unable to keep the utter disgust from his voice as he read the facts. "Do you deny any of these facts?" He waited, but received no response._

_Iolaus' face had paled considerably upon hearing the figures. Hercules was sure his face was probably just as wan. They'd known there were atrocities, but to think of so many innocents dead . . . and especially an infant. What evil could a baby ever be found guilty of?!_

_"Purtinas, Oyeris, and Terminos. I am hereby charging you with twenty-four counts of murder, torturing innocents, and so help me if I can find a way to add the deaths of those two dogs; I will!" Iphicles put down the scroll and leaned over the desk, glaring at the three accused men._

_Oyeris and Terminos were beginning to squirm in their seats, but Purtinas sat with an air of impatient contempt. He was certain the townspeople would never go along with this. He was, after all, protecting them from evil. What did the death of a few peasants matter? All that was important was that now no one dared to follow anything that was contrary to the one true belief . . . his._

* * *

He studied his friend's face closely. No matter what Iolaus said, it was obvious the hunter wanted to see this through and be at the sentencing, but something was holding him back. He was fairly certain he knew what it was.

At the hearing, Iolaus had been an instrumental part of showing the true cruelty the magistrate and his men were capable of; as if the public pressing hadn't been evidence enough. Unfortunately, instead of acting as a witness, the hunter had more or less been put on display. As soon as he was dismissed, he'd left the courtroom as fast as he could.

Hercules knew that one of Iolaus' main fears had been that he'd be constantly gawked at because of his inability to speak without signs or a scroll. The hunter's pride would not allow him to put up with being ridiculed in any manner, as many had found out after making the mistake of teasing him about his height; and the thought of being pitied was an even more loathsome prospect.

"Iolaus, I know you were uncomfortable during the proceedings, but you can't let that stop you from being there to witness Purtinas and the others finally meeting justice. If you do, in a way, they'll still have won."

The demigod stood and looked toward the town hall, then held his hand out for his friend. Iolaus seemed to think it over for just a moment longer, then reached up and clasped his friend's gauntlet and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Together, they made their way back to the courtroom where Iphicles was just preparing to pronounce sentence.

* * *

Iphicles saw the door open at the back of the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Hercules and Iolaus enter. He knew they would want to be here for the sentencing and he'd delayed a few moments when he'd realized they were gone. He could put it off no longer, so their timing couldn't have been better. He waited for the crowd to quiet some and stood, staring down at the three accused murderers.

"After hearing the facts in this case, I have come to a verdict that is never easy and should never be taken lightly. However, given the amount of suffering you have brought to this region and the number of innocent lives that have been lost; it is the only sentence that I can, in good conscience, hand down.

Purtinas. Oyeris. Terminos. It is my decree that you shall be taken to the town square at dawn tomorrow and hanged. This can in no way make up for your crimes, but it will serve as an example to any who would follow in your footsteps that atrocities such as these will not be tolerated in this kingdom."

"No, Sire! Please, mercy!" Oyeris cried as he and Terminos attempted to throw themselves at the king's feet. They were immediately shoved back by Iphicles' guards. Purtinas, however, made no such plea. He was still convinced nothing would come of this.

Iphicles picked up the burial records and shook them angrily at the three men.

"I will show you the same mercy you showed these people!" he shouted angrily. "My decision stands!" He started to turn away, but stopped and glared at them once more. Contempt dripped like acid from his voice. "Tomorrow, you can beg Hades for mercy. I wish you luck." He waved a hand in dismissal as he turned away from the prisoners.

The guards moved in and began herding the three doomed men from the room. As they walked by the gathered throng, Purtinas' calm facade began to crack. The people he was sure would save him were glaring at him with hate and anger. As they reached the door, he happened to catch a glimpse of the demigod and hunter.

The blonde's face was expressionless, but his eyes held a mixture of hatred and pity that would stay in the former magistrate's mind right up to the end as the stool was kicked out from under him. It was the same expression he'd worn many times as he watched one of his proclaimed 'witches' climb the stairs to the gallows . . . watching a monster brought to justice.

* * *

Iphicles and Hercules sat at a table in the inn, sipping ale and smiling as they watched Iolaus. It had been two days since the hangings and they'd decided to stay and help Phipius adjust to his new role as magistrate and the townspeople rebuild their lives.

Iolaus' mood had lightened considerably over the last couple days. He'd been taken to the hearts of the villagers . . . especially the young women . . . since the truth of his ordeal had come out at the trial. Several of the young ladies were currently supplying him with lots of food and ale while they fussed over him, making sure he was comfortable and didn't exert himself too much.

"Umm, I think Iolaus is capable of feeding himself, Ladies." Hercules stifled a laugh at the dirty look his friend shot him. The hunter was definitely feeling more like his old self.

Phipius walked over, carrying a mug, and sat down at the table. He laughed lightly as he watched Iolaus enjoy all the attention he was getting.

"Well, after all he went through, I think he deserves some pampering." He smiled over at the demigod, but there was still a sadness in his eyes. He missed his father and he was still a bit uneasy about the prospect of governing the laws of the town and raising his younger brother both. It was a lot of responsibility to have heaped on one's shoulders in such a short period of time.

The door of the inn opened and they glanced up. Iphicles didn't recognize the old woman who stopped just inside the door, but Hercules stood immediately.

"Amara!"

Iolaus looked up as his friend called the witch's name. He quickly disengaged himself from the young women's attentions and hurried over, capturing the old woman in a hug. He hadn't expected to see her again.

"Well, aren't you looking much better?" She laughed as he finally released her. "The Goddess and I were very honored by your gift," she told him softly, before looking around and finally setting her eyes on Phip. "There are some people here to see you, Phipius."

A woman and girl a bit younger than Phip walked in the door. They smiled when they spotted the young man.

"Mother! Aldora!" Phipius hurried over and embraced both women. "I never thought I'd see you again." His voice cracked with emotion. "You know about Father?" he asked softly.

"Yes." His mother nodded sadly, caressing his cheek.

Phipius brought the women over and introduced them to Iolaus and the others. His mother explained that Amara had been hiding them in one of her other forest sanctuaries and had been keeping them informed of all the recent developments.

"Thank you so much for making it possible for us to return home," she told Iolaus, gently kissing his cheek. "I only wish you hadn't had to suffer so much in the process."

She smiled at Hercules and bowed quickly to Iphicles as she took Phipius' arm and they made their way back to the living area where her other son was taking care of his chores. Despite everything that had happened, they were on their way to becoming a family again.

* * *

The next morning, Hercules and Iolaus were preparing to leave when one of Iphicles' soldiers came to fetch them. The king had summoned everyone to the square. Sharing a quizzical look, they quickly finished packing and hurried out.

They arrived at the center of the village to find everyone gathered around the large pillar that stood directly in the center of the square, murmuring their curiosity. Iphicles was standing on a makeshift stage and they could see there was a sheet draped over the column.

"People of Salemia," the king's voice carried over the din. "In order that no one should forget the horrors that have occurred in this village, I have commissioned an artisan to design a memorial plaque. Let every man, woman, and child that sets eyes upon this monument know the story behind it, so that this kind of tragedy shall not happen again!" He pulled off the sheet and allowed everyone to see the plaque which had been set into the column.

At the very top, in large letters, was Gilecor's name. Directly below was a quote: "This village has been shrouded in a silence so loud it's blinding." Below the quote, in two columns, were the names of all the victims. At the bottom in large letters: 'The price of silence can be truly eye opening. Let us never forget so that their sacrifice shall not be in vain.'

Hercules placed his hand on the hunter's shoulder as they stood silently, looking at the plaque. They had seen Amara and the rest of Gilecor's family looking upon his name with pride. He was a true hero and they were both glad to see him honored as one amongst the townspeople.

They made their way to Iphicles and let him know that they thought the plaque was a wonderful idea. They all stood together for a few moments, watching as the villagers stepped forward to view the names of their friends and loved ones who had been taken from them. Finally, Iolaus looked up at his friend and signaled that he was ready to go. They each clasped the king's hand in a warrior's handshake, promising to visit Corinth soon, and headed out of town.

Soon they were on the road to Thebes, deciding to visit family and friends and put this village and the pain behind them for now. Iolaus was adjusting to life without his voice, but the demigod hoped that someday that, too, would be just a memory and he'd once again hear the most beloved voice in his world.

The End

* * *

Epilogue:

Hercules glanced around for a rock as he adjusted his fishing line once more. He'd promised Iolaus he'd fish his way, but it was just so time-consuming. Just two rocks and they could be eating within a matter of minutes.

Suddenly a hand shot in front of his face, waggling an index finger in his face. ' _How does he always know?_ '

"C'mon, Iolaus!" he whined. "I'm hungry and your way takes too long!" He watched as the hunter jotted something on the small scroll he carried with him. "You're a fine one to lecture on patience!" he retorted indignantly. Finally, he turned back to his fishing, muttering that he hoped he'd get a nibble before he died of starvation. Actually, despite his protestations, the demigod was enjoying himself immensely. He loved being out here spending some time alone with his friend.

It seemed to be helping Iolaus as well. The hunter had adjusted fairly well to his silence, but on occasion he still would get a bit depressed. Most of the time, however, he would surprise the demigod with his optimistic views.

The night before, a troop of bards had come through Thebes. Iolaus had started scribbling on his scroll and the demigod had thought he was writing a message but, as he watched, he realized that the blonde was writing down the words to one of the songs that, in the past, he would have been singing boisterously on their way to the fishing hole today. Hercules' heart had constricted at the sight and he'd expected his friend to fall into one of his black moods, but when Iolaus had spotted him watching, he'd smiled brightly and scribbled a note to the demigod.

'So that I'll have lots of stuff to sing for you once we figure out how to use that horn.'

He'd almost kept the witch's gift a secret, sure that it would never work and not wanting to have his friend get upset at the false hope. He knew that he couldn't hide it from the hunter forever, though, and had finally told him about it as they walked to Thebes. Iolaus had listened intently to him tell the instructions and had spent most of the journey trying to figure out the riddle. He never got discouraged and had assured the demigod that if Amara said it would work, then it would . . . eventually.

As if reading the demigod's thoughts, Iolaus had reached into his carry sack and pulled out the horn. He was convinced that, when the time was right, the 'secret' would appear in the horn. He began running his finger up into the shell, then put it up to the light and peered inside. Letting out a small sigh, he put the shell down in his lap. For some reason he'd felt that this was the day. After a few moments, he turned the demigod and scribbled a small note.

'Tell me the riddle again, Herc. Exactly.'

"Iolaus . . ." the demigod started sadly, but the look on his friend's face convinced him to not dash his hopes. "Okay. Let me think." He spotted the mischievous twinkle in his friend's eye as Iolaus started to write something. "Don't say it!" He laughed and gave the hunter's shoulder a little shove. Then he sobered and began thinking of the witch's exact words. "'When Iolaus speaks into the horn and the hunter sounds the instrument after, his voice shall be restored.'"

They both sat for a moment, concentrating on each word, but finally they both admitted defeat. They just couldn't figure out how Iolaus could speak into the horn with no voice. Finally Iolaus pointed to the horn and Hercules thought about the rest of the witch's instructions.

"'The secret is in the horn, it will tell you the way, you have only to listen.'"

Iolaus thought about it for a few moments and then tried blowing into the shell. No sound whatsoever. They both shared a look of exasperation. Iolaus wasn't ready to give up, however, and began thinking over the words. 'The secret is IN the horn . . . listen.' He brought the open end of the shell to his ear and a puzzled expression came over his face.

"What?" Hercules asked him, curiously.

The hunter moved his hand in a wavy pattern.

"Water?"

Iolaus handed him the shell and he listened carefully. "It sounds like the sea." Suddenly his eyes widened in shock. "The sea! That's it! I can't believe I never thought of that!" He exclaimed excitedly and jumped to his feet. He quickly began gathering up their belongings while Iolaus watched him in bemusement. "C'mon, Iolaus! Get a move on! It's time to get your voice back!"

It took Iolaus a couple moments to register what had just happened. Hercules had apparently solved the riddle. By the time he finally managed to get to his feet, he had to run to catch up with the demigod who was halfway up the hill that led to Iolaus' house.

* * *

Two days later, they arrived at a small cove outside of a small fishing village. Hercules had only told Iolaus that there was someone that he wanted him to meet and that this person would help them get the hunter's voice back.

Iolaus watched his friend curiously as he scanned the cove. Something caught the demigod's eye and they made their way over to a rocky inlet. Iolaus' eyes widened as he looked down at a pair of twins; one boy and one girl. They were about three years old and had blonde hair and blue eyes, much like his own, but instead of legs, they had tails like fish. When they spotted the two men, they started to dive back into the water. They stopped, though, as their eyes locked on Iolaus.

Hercules saw the puzzled looks on the children's faces, which almost matched his friend's exactly. He smiled and bent down. He hadn't seen them since they were a week old. Two days after his last visit, Iolaus had come back to him and they'd returned to their travels.

"Hi, kids, we're looking for your Mommy and Daddy." He turned back to his friend. "Iolaus, this is Nerissa and Dorian. Their father is-"

"Hercules!" a familiar voice called out suddenly.

Hercules and Iolaus turned to see two more merpeople swimming toward them. As they got closer, the hunter realized one was a very beautiful mermaid and the other was . . . him. He shook his head to clear it, but the face of the merman didn't change. He reached over and hit his friend's arm, pointing questioningly.

"You remember I told you that I brought the other Iolaus over from the Sovereign's world and he traveled with me for a while?"

Iolaus nodded slowly. Hercules had assured him that while the other Iolaus was a good friend and he cared for him deeply, that he had never tried to replace him. He'd mentioned them parting ways when Iolaus had fallen in love, but he hadn't mentioned this.

"I guess I left out a couple details, didn't I?" the demigod asked a bit guiltily. He'd been a bit uncomfortable discussing the hunter's alternate at the time and had only glossed over the details. Now he realized that wasn't fair to Iolaus . . . either Iolaus. "I'm sorry. I know you'll like each other, though." He assured the blonde, just as Iolaus and Nautica swam up to the rocky shoreline. "Nautica, Iolaus!" He greeted them cheerfully. "The kids are getting so big."

"Yes, and as they're becoming quite a handful," Nautica smiled up at him as her husband began reprimanding the two children for coming to the surface alone. She looked up at the hunter and smiled sweetly. "Hello, Iolaus. Aphrodite told us that you'd returned. We were so happy to hear the news. Hercules was so lonely without you. My Iolaus has told me all of the stories that Hercules told him about you."

Iolaus smiled down at the mermaid and cocked his head at his friend, mouthing the words 'You did?'. He couldn't help wondering what stories Herc had told, though he was certain that his friend couldn't have told them with the same finesse that he would have. He was honored that the demigod had taken the time to tell stories about him, though. Now, if he could just get the demigod to honor him with a few stories about his twin. He was certain that Hercules had wanted to talk about the other blonde but had kept quiet, fearing he'd be upset about their friendship.

"Of course, I did. You didn't think I'd be able to go on without talking about the best part of my life, did you?" He smiled at the hunter and then turned back to the other blonde. "Iolaus has been through . . . an ordeal. He can't speak and we needed to ask you a favor, Iolaus." He felt guilty showing up after three years just to ask a favor of his friend.

Nautica excused herself, saying she was taking the children home for their naps. She bid both men a fond farewell and dove underwater with the twins in tow. Her husband called after her that he'd be home soon and then made his way up onto the rocks, sitting with just his tail in the water.

Hercules quickly told him about what had happened in Salemia and explained about the horn and the witch's riddle.

"So, I figure that the Iolaus it mentions is you. 'Same voice, same face.'" He smiled at his friend as he remembered one of the first conversations they'd had when he'd brought the former jester to this world.

"Makes sense." Iolaus took the horn from the hunter. "So all I have to do is talk into this? Sounds easy enough." He put the shell to his mouth and spoke into it. "Please give him back his voice." He handed the horn back to his twin. "Let's see if it works."

Iolaus took a deep, centering breath, and lifted the horn to his lips. He gave a powerful blow into the shell and a loud blast of sound issued forth, just before the horn disappeared in a flash of gold light. The light hung in the air for a moment before suddenly shooting back and illuminating the hunter's throat. The other two men jumped and had to fight the urge to reach for Iolaus.

Finally, the light dimmed and faded away. The three men sat looking at each other in stunned silence before Hercules and the other Iolaus finally blurted out at the same time, "Well?! Say something!"

Iolaus sat, looking at them with wide eyes.

"I don't know what to say," he finally muttered and then an excited smile lit his face as he realized he'd just spoke. "I can talk! I can talk!" he shouted happily as he jumped to his feet . . . and promptly slipped on the wet stone and ended up sitting in the small tidal pool beneath the rock. He was too busy giggling to worry about his wet, bruised pride.

His laughter was contagious as an identical giggle accompanied it and Hercules chuckled as he reached down and helped him to his feet, pulling him into a hug.

They stayed a while longer, talking to Iolaus and allowing the blondes to get acquainted with each other. Finally, though, it was time for them to head out and for their friend to return to his family. They made their farewells, promising to come and visit more often.

"You know, Herc, it's so great to be able to talk again. I thought I was going to go crazy. I mean, not being able to tell stories. Having to listen to your versions when we talk to our friends. Don't get me wrong, but you just don't know how to put the excitement into the telling. The people want to live the story through you and it doesn't work if you say it all in a monotone or leave out half the details. Oh, we have to go by Corinth. Won't Iphicles be surprised?! And then . . . ."

Hercules shook his head and laughed silently as he listened to his friend ramble on and on. The hunter had several weeks to make up for and it appeared he was going to try to catch up all in one night. He put his arm around his friend's shoulders and let him babble.

It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> End Notes
> 
> I have based this story on the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts . . . A very small part of the terrifying period of history referred to as the Burning Times. Many of the names and circumstances are based on the actual events.
> 
> ¤ Salemia is obvious.
> 
> ¤ The lye: This is actually one of the 'milder' tortures used during the Burning Times. It was done mainly in Catholic countries and is referred to as 'cleansing the soul'. Lye and other soaps along with various other scalding substances (hot coals, fire brands, etc.) were forced down the throats of victims. It is where the term 'washing your mouth out with soap' comes from.
> 
> ¤ Purtinas: an anagram of Puritans.
> 
> ¤ Gilecor: Giles Corey -- The real historical figure was an 80 year old man who was the only recorded person to be legally pressed to death in North America. His only words during the ordeal were also his last: 'More weight.'
> 
> ¤ Oyeris and Terminos: The court of Oyer and Terminer. To hear and to decide. This unfair system resulted in countless jail terms, torturing sessions, and deaths.
> 
> ¤ Phipius: Governer William Phips
> 
> ¤ The death total: 4 persons and 1 infant dying in jail. 18 persons and 2 dogs hanged. 1 person pressed to death -- In the story these took place over the course of a few years. In reality, this was the actual death toll in less than five months from the time the court of Oyer and Terminer went into effect on June 2, 1692 til the time it was closed by Governer Phips on October 29, 1692
> 
> Other:
> 
> Amara is a Greek name which means 'unfading' I felt this name was appropriate both for the character and what she represents.
> 
> The verse that Iolaus sings at the beginning of the story is actually from 'The Heraclidae' by Euripides. Iolaus is the central character in the play.


End file.
